


day eight

by julek



Series: Winterfest 2020 [8]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Tracks In The Snow, blood mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julek/pseuds/julek
Summary: Jaskier goes out looking for Geralt in the snow.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winterfest 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041318
Kudos: 87





	day eight

“Okay, Roach, help me out here. Use your— your tracking skills. Do horses even— or was it hounds? Anyway, uh, please don’t bite my hand.”

Jaskier slowly reached for her reins and let out a sigh of relief when she didn’t snap his arm in half. He led her out of her stall and into the road, minding her hooves as they carefully walked on the snow that had gathered over the night, and was now covering the muddy path. 

“Is it exclusive to hounds, though? The, uh, people-tracking business?” Roach snorted in response. “Geralt would know that. He’d say something boring, like, _whichever animal whose olfactory abilities are enhanced could do it, Jaskier_.”

Geralt had gone hunting. The innkeeper had been extremely clear in that she wouldn’t house a Witcher unless he could handle their werewolf problem, no matter how prettily Jaskier could sing or how many times he could bat his eyelashes. That had been hours ago — before the snow had started heavily falling, before all Jaskier could think of was blood on a white canvas.

They walked across the small village, following the barely visible footprints as they made it to the forest. It was quiet and almost looked peaceful, the tree branches dark against pure white as they moved along a faint trail where Geralt’s tracks became more prominent, as if he’d suddenly become heavier, somehow.

His footprints were abruptly cut off right by a big oak. Jaskier looked around, thinking he’d misstepped, but found nothing. Not a trace of where he’d gone, no silver or steel or vial stopper — anything that could lead them to Geralt. Jaskier tightened his cloak around his shoulders and pressed his forehead against Roach’s crest. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, then tied Roach to the tree and walked away with resolve, following his inner compass. 

“He’d laugh at me,” he mumbled to himself, just because he couldn’t bear the silence anymore. “I’m no good at following clues or anything, actually.” He let out a hollow laugh. “The only thing I’m good at is following him.”

He held his breath as he moved along a fallen tree. He slowly walked around it, and immediately wished he hadn’t — there was a trail of blood like spilled ink darkening the snow.

“Please, don’t be Geralt’s,” he whispered. He followed the trail that kept growing, pure white now streaked with vibrant red, and felt his heart beating on his throat. “Please, let it be that damned werewolf’s blood, the one that’s good for potions and salves.”

“So you do listen to me.”

Jaskier turned around.

“Geralt!”

The Witcher could barely open his mouth before Jaskier was throwing his arms around him and pulling him into an unyielding hug. He could feel Jaskier’s heart beating fast even through the layers of clothing, so he pressed in, his nose rubbing against the bard’s neck.

“I was worried,” Jaskier murmured, not pulling back. “You didn’t come back, and there was a snowstorm, and I—”

“I’m okay,” Geralt said softly, with the tone he usually reserved for Roach. “It just took longer than I expected, but I’m fine.”

Jaskier pulled back and let out a small laugh, his cheeks red and his eyes watery. A single tear escaped as he blinked, but Geralt wiped it away with his thumb. 

“Let’s go.”

Jaskier nodded. 

Back at the inn, the werewolf’s head dispatched, his witcher clean and cozy under warm blankets, Jaskier let himself breathe. 

“I was really scared for you today,” he murmured against Geralt’s chest, listening to the slow beating of his heart. “And I know you don’t like it when I worry, because it’s just the way things are and will always be, but I—”

Geralt lifted his head from the pillow, his fingertips tracing Jaskier’s spine, a silent invitation for him to continue. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to spill.

“I can’t help it,” he breathed out. “I can’t help worrying for you, just like I can’t help singing when I’m nervous or yelling when I’m excited or loving you, I just— I can’t.”

Finally, he looked up at Geralt, his amber gaze glowing soft in the candlelight. He sucked in a breath as the Witcher’s hands came up and tangled into his hair.

“I know,” Geralt rumbled. “I’m sorry. I wish there was an easier way.”

Jaskier smiled weakly, pressing his face into the touch. “I know.”

He settled back against his chest, burying his face in Geralt’s neck and tangling their legs together, his frozen feet against Geralt’s calves. He focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest, and was almost asleep when he heard Geralt whisper into his hair.

“I love you.”

Jaskier sleepily pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And I, you.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow this series on [tumblr](http://julek.tumblr.com/tagged/winter%20prompts)!


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